


Sweet Understanding

by misato



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Coming Out, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Homophobia, Living Together, M/M, Rating May Change, and by that i mean it will absolutely change, christmas fic in the summer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2018-10-19 19:08:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10646184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misato/pseuds/misato
Summary: After Kevin's parents kick him out for being gay, he moves in with Connor McKinley.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from lsoh bc i couldnt think of anything
> 
> anyway, this is going to be a chapterfic and the rating will absolutely become explicit, praise christ
> 
> have fun reading :D

Kevin Price, at age nineteen, had never imagined that he’d ever touch alcohol.

Kevin Price, at age twenty-one, was currently sitting in a bar at a gay club, wearing a rainbow tie, and downing vodka like it was water.

It was December 20th, 2013. Same-sex marriage had just been legalized in the state of Utah, and he had just been kicked out of his house for good.

His parents hadn’t been happy about the Book of Arnold when he had returned about a year and a half ago. They hadn’t been happy when they had found a Starbucks gift card in his room. They definitely hadn’t been happy when he had skipped church activities in favor of going to Naba and Arnold’s baby shower. But this had been the final straw: him coming out.

In short, his parents had been complaining about the legalization and he had snapped.

There had been a lot of yelling, but the aftermath had been quiet. So quiet it was scary. His father had sat in the living room fuming while Kevin packed his things quietly and slipped out the front door without leaving a trace.

He could’ve driven to Arnold’s place.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he decided to get plastered.

Kevin wiped his mouth and blinked. His head felt light and dizzy. He had never gotten drunk before, but he kind of liked it. It was more intense than anything he’d ever felt.

“Hey,” a voice said, one that was familiar in a blurry way. “Wanna dance?”

Kevin could barely make out his face in the dim light. The man was wearing a crop top and leather pants, and he suddenly felt ridiculous in his dress shirt and slacks.

“Um,” Kevin said, rather stupidly, and tried to stand.

He failed miserably, and he would’ve tumbled to the floor if the other man hadn’t caught his shoulder.

“Whoa, there,” the guy said. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve never…” Kevin managed. “I’ve never been drunk before.”

“And you’re alone? That’s not safe, honey. You need to get home.”

“I don’t have one,” Kevin said softly. “My parents kicked me out. I came out to them a few hours ago.”

“Oh, no, I’m so sorry. I’ve been there. My parents are Mormon.” the man said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Kevin said, wincing at the word ‘Mormon.’ “I want to dance.”

He then proceeded to vomit all over the floor. The man stepped to the side quickly, but a little got on his shoes anyway.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, and the man shook his head.

“No, it’s okay. Do you want me to take you to my place?”

“You mean…to  _ fuck _ ?” His voice was incredulous, and it sounded as if he didn’t swear all that often; the word fuck seemed new on his tongue.

“Of course not. You’re drunk, I would never do that,” the man said, looking a little amused. “I want to give you a safe place to stay. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Kevin slurred out. “Yeah, please.”

They planned to take Kevin’s car, because the other man had taken a taxi to the club. 

Kevin was fumbling for the keys.

“Thank you,” he managed, as he found them. “I’m Kevin.”

“Wait,  _ what? _ ” the man said, and Kevin could see him more clearly now in the light of the streetlamp.

“Elder McKinley?” Kevin said, giggling a little. 

“Elder Price,” Elder McKinley said, and his expression was unreadable.

“C’mere,” Kevin said, pulling him into a tight hug, his breath hot and boozy against the other man’s neck. “How have you been?”

“Gay, mostly,” he said, hugging back.

“No more turning it off, huh?”

“No,” Elder McKinley said, and he sounded a little bitter at the memory. “No, I don’t do that anymore. I don’t follow the Mormon faith, either. You can call me Connor.”

“Connor,” Kevin said, like he was tasting the word. “Connor, Connor, Connor.”

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re wearing a crop top.”

Connor snorted.

“I suppose you’ve got me there.”

Kevin tossed him the keys.

“Let’s go.”

Kevin got into the passenger’s seat and clumsily buckled his seatbelt.

“Connor,” he murmured, yawning as the car started. “What happened to you? After you went home.”

“The same thing that happened to you, I suppose,” Connor said dolefully, turning onto a road that Kevin couldn’t recognize.

The lights were fading into the lines, and Kevin shut his eyes. It was making him dizzy.

“I came out to my parents, and they freaked out, and now here I am. Flirting with strangers and wearing a crop top.”

“It’s a good look for you,” Kevin mumbled, opening his eyes to look at Connor. “It suits you a whole lot better than the whole Mormon thing ever did.”

“So you aren’t…”

“Unless we’re counting the teachings of the Book of Arnold, no. I’m not what you’d call a good Mormon anymore.”

“How is Arnold?”

“He’s…” Kevin closed his eyes, smiling. “He’s going to be a dad.”

“What?” Connor’s face lit up. “Really? Nabulungi’s pregnant?”

“Yeah,” Kevin said. “They’re so happy, Connor. I didn’t wanna tell him about me getting kicked out because it’d ruin all their happiness.”

“That’s not true,” Connor said, pulling into a parking lot in front of an apartment complex. “He’s your best friend, Kevin. He cares about you, and so does Naba.” He swallowed. “And so do I.”

“Thank you,” Kevin said, his eyes bright and wide, the pupils blown, and suddenly he was leaning in towards Connor. “Connor, listen, can I-”

“Let’s go inside,” Connor said, cutting him off, his facial expression suddenly blank again. “I’ll carry your suitcase.”

The elevator ride was silent, until, Kevin, who was half-asleep on his feet, spoke.

“Why are you doing this? Why do you care about me so much?”

“I don’t know,” Connor said. “I think I always cared about you this much. I just never got to tell you how much I wanted to-”

He shut his mouth quickly.

“To…?”

“I’ll tell you in the morning,” Connor said, stepping out of the elevator and pulling Kevin’s suitcase behind him. “It’s not the right time to have this conversation.”

“Why?” Kevin said, stumbling after him.

“You’re too drunk, honey,” Connor said, and unlocked the door.

It took him three tries for him to get the key in the lock, what with the way his hands were shaking.

The apartment was small, with one bedroom, but Kevin liked it. It seemed homey, and it kind of smelled like cinnamon. 

Connor beckoned for him to follow him into the bedroom.

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch,” he called. “Sorry, I didn’t make the bed or anything, but-”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Why would you sleep on the couch?”

Connor was blushing to the tips of his ears. 

“Uh…” he said, unintelligently.

“I don’t steal the covers, I promise,” Kevin said, and toed off his shoes before crawling onto one side of the bed.

“It’s not that, it’s-”

“Connor,” Kevin said, his voice suddenly serious. “I’m scared I’m gonna have a hell dream or something, just, please…I don’t wanna be alone.”

Connor bit his lip. 

“Okay,” he said. “Okay, but just for tonight.”

He got into bed, carefully avoiding Kevin’s side.

“Goodnight, Connor,” Kevin said, his voice soft.

“Goodnight,” Connor managed, shutting his eyes.

When he woke up, he found Kevin wrapped tightly around him, nuzzling against the back of his neck.

“Kev,” Connor said, shaking him a little, and the other man woke up slowly, his breath puffing warm and soft against his jaw as he yawned.

“Morning, sunshine,” Kevin said, sleepily. 

“Morning,” Connor said breathily, and untangled himself from the other as best he could.

“Don’t leave,” Kevin whined. “You’re warm.”

“I’ll turn up the heat,” Connor said, sounding a bit strained, and left the room before Kevin could say another word.

Kevin sat up in bed, running a hand through his hair, which was a mess. Then he winced. His entire body ached.

He trudged into the hall.

“Is this what a hangover feels like?” he said.

“Terrible?” Connor called from the kitchen. “Yes.”

“Gay clubs aren’t as fun as I thought they would be,” Kevin said, dejectedly.

“I suppose they aren’t,” Connor said, pushing a tall glass of ice water into his hands. “This’ll help with the headache.”

“Connor, what were we talking about last night?” Kevin asked, taking a large swallow of the water. “You said we could talk about it in the morning. I feel like it was important.”

“Nothing important,” Connor said, avoiding his gaze. “How do you like your eggs?”

And Kevin, sitting at the breakfast table, decided that Connor was the absolute best at making scrambled eggs and the absolute worst at lying.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i finally wrote a chapter 2...enjoy!!!

“Can I take a shower?” Kevin said carefully, after rinsing his plate and putting it into the dishwasher.

“Yeah,” Connor said. “Bathroom’s on the left, towels are under the sink.”

He seemed so frigid and distant that Kevin just wanted to grab him and kiss some sense into him. Or something like that.

Connor wasn’t the first person he’d had gay thoughts about, but Kevin had always smothered them before, leaving him with nothing to linger upon but sort-of-hellish dreams of lips on lips and bodies on bodies. But now there was no reason to hide it. 

He wondered if Connor still turned it off, sometimes.

Kevin trudged down the hall and found the bathroom. He shut the door and stared at himself in the mirror.

He looked exhausted, even though that had been the best sleep he’d had in weeks. There was no way he was ever letting Connor sleep on the couch.

Kevin turned on the shower and waited for it to heat up while he undressed.

When the water was warm to the touch, he stepped into the shower.

He smiled at Connor’s choices of shampoo and body wash. No wonder he smelled so nice; he had picked warm, sugary scents. He was pretty sure one of the soaps was cupcake scented. Then again, after living in Uganda, fancy soap seemed like a luxury.

Kevin washed up and finished his shower, wrapping one of Connor’s pink towels around his waist before realizing he had left his suitcase with his clothes in the bedroom.

He gingerly opened the door and went down the hall to the bedroom.

“Kevin?” Connor called from the kitchen, peering into the hall, and Kevin whirled around, the towel slipping around his waist.

He saw Connor’s face begin to flush, and he tugged the towel back over his hips, flashing the other man an awkward grin.

“Sorry,” he said. “I left my clothes in the...I’ll just...I’ll be out in a minute.”

He darted into the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him, letting the towel drop to the floor.

Kevin sighed, leaning against the door in defeat before trudging damply over to the suitcase.

He had normal underwear now, and some casual clothes, but nothing like what Connor wore. The man was still out there doing the dishes in a crop top.

He had never much lingered on men’s bodies before, but he was pretty sure he liked everything about Connor: his thick thighs, his gentle smile, the way his hair fell into his face, the freckles that trailed from his nose to his cheeks to his shoulders to even his stomach. He wondered if they dipped lower, imagined kissing over soft, freckled hips.

Kevin shut his eyes and decided that he probably needed another shower -- a cold one, at that.

Instead, he slowly got dressed in a drab sweater and boring jeans and went back into the kitchen with dripping hair and bare feet. He felt practically naked, even though they had shared living quarters for a long while back in Uganda.

“Hey!” Connor said, almost too brightly. His gaze was sweeping over Kevin before it finally landed uncomfortably at the wall behind him. “I’m gonna shower too. You can put on a movie or something if you get bored.” Kevin said nothing. He felt kind of awkward, intruding in on someone’s home like this. “Um,” Connor tried desperately to continue talking. “I have Monsters University. That’s the new one. You like Disney, right?”

“Yeah,” Kevin broke in, stepping closer and putting a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. “I love Disney.”

Connor nodded. He found the DVD. Kevin figured out how to set it up while Connor went to take a shower (Kevin watched as he deliberately carried his clothes from the bedroom to the bathroom first). He stared longingly as those leather-clad thighs disappeared, swishing through the doorway before the door slammed shut, probably too hard.

Kevin half-watched the movie; it was all right, but after a while he became focused more on the sounds coming from behind the wall. He grabbed the remote and turned the volume low until he could unmistakably hear it -- a voice moaning beneath the rush of the water. Kevin’s mouth went dry. He felt himself turn completely red, even though no one else was in the room. Then he turned the volume back up and watched Mike Wazowski make stupid jokes until the shower went silent.

Connor came out in a few minutes, hair towelled semi-dry and face pink from the hot water.

“Is the movie any good? Poptarts gave it to me as a gift.”

“You still talk to Poptarts?” Kevin said quickly.

“Sometimes. We had lunch a couple weeks back.”

“Oh,” Kevin said, and then, “Yeah, the movie’s fine.”

Connor went to the kitchen and filled another glass with ice water.

“I bet you still have a headache, huh?”

Kevin winced and took the glass gratefully.

“Yeah. Drinking is kinda awful.”

“Unfortunately, it’s one of the only ways to meet other gay men,” Connor said. “At least in my experience.”

“Really?”

“I mean, it’s either a gay bar or a support group. I don’t really need the latter, so I stick to the bars.”

“Do you, um,” Kevin paused, searching for a word. “ _ Hook up _ with guys?”

Connor laughed. He had a nice laugh.

“Sometimes. I sort of avoid it. I prefer sex when I know the person.”

“Oh,” Kevin said. “Me too.”

Connor laughed again, and Kevin flushed red.

“Have you ever had sex, Kevin?”

“No. But I don’t think I’d like casual sex very much.”

“Yeah,” Connor said. “I’ll take you out, if you want, but I don’t think your first time should be with a hookup.”

“I think I’m okay for now,” Kevin said, strained. 

“Sorry,” Connor said. “I forgot. You were a Mormon up until yesterday.”

“Not exactly,” Kevin said. “I was sort of slipping away ever since the whole Book of Arnold thing got started.”

“I guess it was the same for me,” Connor said. 

There was a short silence. 

“I’m gonna charge my phone, so I can call Arnold,” Kevin said. “We text back and forth all the time, so he’s probably worried sick.”

Kevin went into the bedroom to get his cellphone from his suitcase and Connor sat gingerly on the couch and stared blankly at the TV.

While Kevin’s phone charged, they finished the movie together, sitting on opposite ends of the couch like they hadn’t been sleeping in the same bed that morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if updates are few and far between. you can thank summer depression :///

When Kevin’s phone lit up, he almost swore under his breath. Almost.

He had about fifty texts from Arnold, and a hundred more from Nabulungi, which mostly consisted of worried and crying emojis.

He scrolled through pages of distressing messages before deciding to call Arnold. 

Arnold picked up on the second ring.

“Hi,” Kevin said sheepishly.

“Oh my freakin’ gosh, dude, where are you?”

“Uh, it’s hard to explain. I told my parents about the gay thing,” Kevin said.

“Oh,” Arnold said softly, then chuckled sadly. “Let me guess, they weren’t happy?”

“I got kicked out,” Kevin said shortly.

“Kevin! Seriously, why didn’t you call me immediately?” Arnold said. “You can come stay with us, if you want.”

“No, no,” Kevin said. “You’ve got a baby on the way. Besides, I’m staying with, um...McKinley.”

“As in  _ Elder  _ McKinley?” Arnold said, confusion creeping into his voice.

“Yes.”

“Ooh,” Arnold said, giggling a little bit. “I knew you liked him. How’d you even find him, though?”

“It’s not like that. He found me. I was super, um, drunk-”

“Drunk?” Arnold squawked. “Babe, Kevin got drunk.”

“Good for him,” Kevin heard Nabulungi say approvingly, and Arnold scoffed.

“Anyway,” Kevin said. “I’m staying with him, at least for a little bit.”

“Let’s have dinner tomorrow night,” Arnold said. “No drinking though, got it?”

“Got it, buddy,” Kevin said wearily. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Arnold and Naba screamed a heartfelt goodbye into the phone, and he had to hold it away from his ear before hanging up.

“How did it go?” Connor asked. 

He was sitting on the couch, doing a crossword puzzle. He looked hopelessly adorable.

“Fine,” Kevin said. “They want to get dinner with us tomorrow night.”

“Okay,” Connor said. “What’s a Christmas bird, 9 letters?”

Kevin walked over and leaned down over Connor’s shoulder, looking at the mostly filled crossword puzzle. Connor kind of shivered.

“Partridge,” Kevin said, his hand absentmindedly resting on Connor’s arm. “In a pear tree.”

Connor chuckled, but he sounded strained.

“Thanks.”

They had sandwiches for lunch, and then Connor was going to go grocery shopping. Kevin didn’t ask to go along. Connor looked stressed, like he needed to be alone.

“You can watch TV, or sleep, or do whatever,” Connor said, grabbing his keys and his wallet.

“I’m not twelve years old,” Kevin said. “I can find something to do.”

“I’m sure you can,” Connor said, and shut the door behind him.

He was alone in the apartment.

He didn’t feel like being nosy, so he just went into Connor’s bedroom and collapsed onto the bed.

It smelled like him, like sugar and cinnamon and hair gel, and before Kevin knew what he was doing, his face was buried in Connor’s pillow. He didn’t want to admit it, not even to Arnold, but he really had liked McKinley back then. A lot.

He had always been attracted to the man’s passion. It shone through in the way he had been determined to finish his mission with Kevin and all the Elders, and more importantly, in the way he had learned to accept himself: unabashedly and wholeheartedly. Kevin had watched him blossom. He seriously hoped that Connor would never go back to turning it off, and not just because he kinda wanted to get in the guy’s pants. (If that was what the kids still said nowadays.)

He had never masturbated as a teenager; he had never felt the need to, but upon meeting McKinley, he had had dreams upon dreams. And they were anything but hellish.

He always felt guilty afterwards, his clothes and sheets and hand stained with his release.

Washing it away until his hands were raw did nothing to diminish the sinful thoughts.

His mind shifted, then, to the thought of Connor moaning in the shower, freckled skin flushed pink from the hot water as he fisted his cock. 

Kevin didn’t know much about sex -- he had looked some things up, but he had no experience, and so his fantasies were limited.

He liked the idea of giving Connor head, and that was what he thought about as he made his way to the bathroom, pants tented. He knelt on the tile floor and started unbuttoning his jeans.

The bathroom was cold, and Kevin’s hands shook with what could have been guilt as he took himself out of his underwear, stroking his cock to hardness. He bit his lip, choking back moans as he trembled with arousal, his knees threatening to give out.

One hand crept beneath the thin fabric of his sweater, stroking the skin gently as he thought Connor might.

_ “I’ve got you,”  _ he would say, pushing into Kevin slowly.  _ “I’ve got you, Kev. I love you so much.” _

And then, suddenly, Kevin came all over the tile floor. And the bath mat. A little bit got on the trash can too.

“Oh, gosh,” Kevin mumbled, and he didn’t want to use the one of the Christmas guest towels to clean up his own...well...y’know, but what else was there?

He hoped he didn’t debauch Rudolph’s name by wiping up the mess with the reindeer’s own holiday print towel, but he supposed he was already going straight to hell anyway. The spookiest, Mormon-est kind.

He cleaned himself up and decided it was best to nap on the couch. Jacking off in someone’s bathroom and then sleeping in their bed felt wrong. He was half-watching brainless reruns of holiday films and sort of dozing off when he heard the key turning in the lock.

He shut his eyes and steadied his breathing.

He heard Connor setting the bags of groceries on the counter, the plastic bags crinkling, and then he heard the man sigh.

“What am I going to do?” he heard Connor murmur.

Kevin nearly stopped breathing. Did Connor not want him here? Was he too much to handle?

And then Connor said the words that would change his life:

“Fuck, he’s so cute.”

He sighed again, and then Kevin heard him start unpacking and putting away the groceries. Meanwhile, his heart was pounding and his chest was tight. Him? Cute? Impossible. He was probably dreaming.

Connor shut the refrigerator door and started walking towards him, his footsteps light on the floor.

He shook Kevin’s shoulder.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” he hummed, and Kevin did his best fake yawn before sitting up and blinking up at Connor with what he hoped was a cute expression.

It worked. Connor flushed and stuttered out a greeting.

“Hey!” he said, his voice cracking more than it should for someone in his twenties. “I’m about to start dinner. You’re not still hungover, are you?”

“No,” Kevin said.

He was probably teasing, but then again, Kevin knew nothing about hangovers.

“I’m cooking homemade tomato soup,” Connor said, heading for the stove.

“Fancy,” Kevin said.

He still couldn’t stop thinking about Connor’s words. Cute. He was cute.

“I guess,” Connor said, and started getting out the ingredients.

They talked in the kitchen for over an hour before it was ready. It seemed as if Connor didn’t really like talking about his past, but Kevin liked to tell stories, even bittersweet ones.

He had just finished telling him the details of the time he broke his arm in third grade when Connor made an adorable little  _ “oh! _ ” sound and turned off the stove, peering into the bubbling pot.

“It’s ready,” Connor said, beaming at him, and Kevin grinned back.

He spooned soup into two bowls and tore off hunks of bread from a baguette he had bought at the store.

“You want something to drink?” Connor said. 

“Like, alcohol?” Kevin asked, innocence still lingering in his voice, and Connor snorted.

“Sure, but I meant, like, water. Or soda. Or coffee? You like coffee, right?” He was sort of babbling now.

“Water’s fine. I like coffee, but we can have that another time,” Kevin said, softly smiling.

Connor nearly spilled the glass of water as he handed it to Kevin.

“Thanks.”

They started to eat in silence, with only the clink of spoons against dishware.

“Oh my gosh, this is good,” Kevin said. “This is amazing, actually.”

“Thank you,” Connor said, blushing.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that drink,” Kevin said, after they had finished. “I should probably get used to the whole alcohol thing.”

“Not if you don’t want to,” Connor said. 

“I want to,” Kevin said quickly.

Connor paused, and then nodded.

“I’m not getting you wasted. Just tipsy. Tipsy is fine.”

He opened the fridge and took out two bottles.

“It’s hard lemonade.”

“Sounds good,” Kevin said, a little shaky.

Connor set the bottles down on the counter. The sound seemed deafening. Kevin flinched.

“Is something wrong?” Connor asked, looking at him as if he was fragile.

Kevin didn’t like feeling weak.

“No, no, it’s okay.”

“Kevin, you don’t have to-”

“Am I going to hell?” 

The words spilled out of his mouth faster than he could think to say them.

“Oh, Kevin, honey, no,” Connor said, and tears were forming in the corners of his eyes. “No. You’re a good person.”

Kevin could barely breathe as Connor pulled him into a hug. He melted into his arms. Connor felt so warm and smelled so sweet.

“I’m sorry,” Kevin said, with a wet laugh. “I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”

“You couldn’t ruin something if you tried,” Connor said.

Kevin smiled at him sadly.

“I wish you were right.”

They put the bottles back in the fridge and made hot chocolate instead.

When Kevin went to sleep that night, it was in Connor’s bed.

Kevin clung to Connor in the night like he was all he had left.

In a way, he was.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back! catch all the extra musical theatre references if u can!
> 
> my new tumblr is @mariogalaxys so shoot me an ask on there if u want :+)

“You don’t have much to wear, do you?” Connor said the next morning, after a breakfast that consisted of coffee and awkward silences.

But mostly the coffee.

“I’ve got enough things,” Kevin said, tugging at the collar of the gray T-shirt he was wearing. “A couple sweaters, a few pairs of jeans--”

“A lot of ties,” Connor teased.

“That’s right,” Kevin said wryly.

“C’mon,” Connor said with a smile that wasn’t quite as shy as it used to be. “I’ll get you something to wear for dinner tonight.”

It made Kevin feel warm, even though it was December.

“Okay,” he said, certain his face was a million shades of crimson. “I guess that’s fine.”

***

Shopping with Connor was, well...an experience.

There were so many things Kevin didn’t even know you could buy. He hadn’t been to the mall much as a teenager, and Hot Topic had recently gone from an intimidating goth haven to a not-so-scary store for fan merchandise.

And by fan merchandise, he meant Disney T-shirts.

Lots of them.

Connor idly picked up a collar that seemed to be thinly disguised as a choker and snorted.

“Kevin, I don’t think this place is classy enough for you.”

_ For me?  _ Kevin thought. _ I’m classy? _

But he trailed after Connor through department stores, up escalators, down escalators, and through what seemed like thousands of shelves of overpriced Calvin Klein underwear that Connor seemed to linger far, far too long on.

“Connor?” Kevin asked tentatively. “What exactly do you do now?”

“I’m getting a degree in psychology, to start,” Connor said, eyeing the racks of crisp white dress shirts with a death glare, and then meeting Kevin’s eyes softly. “I want to be a music therapist.”

“That’s a good fit for you,” Kevin said with a smile. “You still, uh, dance too?”

“Yeah,” Connor said. “Sometimes.” And then, “Maybe someday I’ll show you more than tap dancing.”

Kevin almost choked on his own spit.

“I work at a grocery store now, though. Cashier. It’s boring as shit. I was able to take off for Christmas, thank God.”

The Lord’s name in vain made Kevin’s eyebrows twitch for a moment. Then he remembered that they weren’t in Uganda anymore. They were in Nordstrom.

“I need to apply for jobs,” Kevin said. “I thought about Starbucks. Or somewhere here, but working in retail sounds flat as a lake, y’know?”

Connor nodded, and turned back to the dress shirts, pacing down the rows of colors.

“I think you’d look good in blue,” he said, taking a shirt off the rack and stalking towards the fitting rooms.

Kevin made a noise of half-protest, half-confusion, and followed suit.

Connor pulled him into an open fitting room and handed Kevin the shirt.

“Try it on,” Connor said, smiling in a way that made his freckled nose scrunch up.

He stepped away, and Kevin pulled the curtain shut, if only to hide his reddening face.

The price tag was far too high for a college student’s salary to handle, but Kevin tugged off his sweater and began fumbling with the buttons on the dress shirt.

He put it on and stared in the mirror.

For someone who had spent most of his young adult life in button-downs, he looked awkward.

He tucked the shirt into his pants and slid the curtain open.

Connor was playing a game on his cellphone, but glanced up at the sound of the curtain being pulled.

He nearly dropped his phone in surprise. Kevin couldn’t tell if he was faking just to be nice, but then he said, in a voice like silk,

“Wow. You look hot.”

“Oh,” Kevin said.

“No, really, I’ll buy the shirt. Wear it out.”

“You don’t _ wear out _ dress shirts,” Kevin began to say, but Connor was pulling him to the register and Kevin was hopelessly, terribly bad at saying no to handsome men.

***

“I’ll pay for dinner,” Kevin said weakly.

“No,” Connor said.

“I’ll pay for dessert.”

“No,” Connor said. “It’s fine. You look good. Now undo the top button of your shirt.”

Kevin did.

Connor parked the car.

It had been difficult to get a last-minute reservation just a few days before Christmas, but Arnold insisted on unlimited breadsticks and Nabulungi had enthusiastically agreed.

“Kevin!” Arnold yelled when they saw each other, as if it was normal to yell in an Olive Garden during the dinner rush.

“Hey, buddy,” Kevin said, and pulled him into a side hug.

Arnold went for the full hug.

(He always went for the full hug.)

This time, Kevin was okay with it.

The next few minutes were a mess of worried “Are-you-okay?’s” and quiet “I’m-fine’s” that made Kevin embarrassed. He felt like a child with three parents fawning over him. It was uncomfortable.

Maybe the server saw the hurt in his eyes, or maybe it was just their turn to be seated, but she cut into the conversation.

“McKinley, party of four?” she said.

“Yep,” Kevin said, and ducked away in pursuit of their original goal: breadsticks.

Connor sat next to Kevin in the booth. Kevin was sipping at his water and not meeting anyone’s eyes.

“Kev,” Connor murmured, while Arnold was making a caterpillar out of his straw wrapper. “Is something wrong?”

Kevin turned away.

Connor tugged at his arm and led him outside.

Kevin felt like a child being scolded.

“What’s wrong?” Connor said, and oh, his eyes were so pretty, but Kevin wasn’t supposed to be focusing on that right then.

“You don’t have to do this.” Kevin said, the words coming out very fast and frightened -- the type of apology that usually came after a Hell Dream. “I’m not a lost puppy. You don’t have to take me in, I-”

“I’m sorry,” Connor said, tearing pricking at the corners of those big eyes. “Thank you for being honest. Really. I’ll try not to be so...y’know.”

Kevin stood in shock.

“What?” Connor said. “Turning it off isn’t my thing anymore.”

“I can see that,” Kevin said slowly. “Connor, I-”

Arnold was waving at them through the window, beckoning for them to come inside.

“Let’s go in,” Connor said smoothly, and Kevin nodded.

The rest of the dinner was great.

They made jokes and reminisced and discussed baby names.

“Tiana,” Kevin said dramatically, “is the best Disney princess of all time.”

Connor snorted.

“Name her after a month. It’s trendy.”

“What?” Kevin said, hitting Connor’s shoulder. “A month? Like November?”

“No, like April. Or May.”

“May,” Nabulungi murmured with a half-smile on her face.

“Short for ‘May the Force be with you,’” Arnold added very seriously.

Nabulungi giggled.

Kevin had been about to suggest another Disney name, but the look that Arnold and Naba were sharing made him pause in his tracks.

It was getting late, and although the server was annoyed about the table’s all too literal definition of unlimited breadsticks, they made sure to tip heavily.

“See you, pal,” Kevin said, and pulled Arnold into a real hug this time. “Call me if you need me.”

“I’m gonna call you every day then,” Arnold grinned.

Kevin smiled.

On the way home, Connor sang along under his breath with the radio and Kevin leaned back in his seat and smiled.

He was thinking about Connor’s eyes, and month babies, and top buttons unbuttoned, and that softly singing mouth, pressed against his own.


End file.
